


Not Just A Muse

by fanonorcanon



Series: Dragon Age Ficlets [20]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Jealousy, Pining, WILDLY canon divergent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-16 14:37:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20844104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanonorcanon/pseuds/fanonorcanon
Summary: This was something I wrote for Abelath's story but I decided to scrap it from the main story. Thought it was still interesting enough to share. Enjoy!





	1. Chapter 1

Solas sat on a stump in the woods outside of Haven and gazed at the stars. He knew that he’d been followed. His pursuer was not an experienced hunter in any way. Instead, Abelath was a quiet mage who seemed to find him very interesting despite all of his attempts to make himself seem anything but. It’d been his goal to seem wholly unremarkable, to slip into this organization and slip out with few, if any remembering him.

She sat next to him without a word.

“Do you speak elven, lethallin?”

“Not fluently, no. My mother meant to teach me, but she died when I was young. Father wasn’t as fluent as she was. Well, no one else in the clan was. Not even our Keeper.”

“You speak of them all as if they are in the past,” Solas said lightly.

“I suppose they are in a way. I can never go back to my clan.”

“Why not?”

“The Dalish fear mages as does most of southern Thedas as I’m sure you’re familiar with. The clan I grew up in had two mages and I was the third. When a child barely old enough to dress themselves came into their magic, I decided it was best that I leave instead of them. I had no remaining family there. My father died many years ago and after that I’d found myself feeling little attachment to those around me.”

“That’s very kind of you. Not many would do the same if they’d been in your shoes. Certainly none of the Dalish I’ve met.”

“I’m not sure my intentions were completely noble. I find myself welcoming this freedom I have now. Maybe I’d wanted it all along and hadn’t realized.”

“You consider what you have now freedom? Even though so much relies solely upon you?”

“Well, when you put it that way,” Abelath said with a smirk.

“What brings you out of your quarters this late?”

“I saw you from my window heading towards the gates. I suppose that I was worried you were leaving.”

“You needn’t worry. I plan to see this through; to see the Breach closed.”

“I value your friendship, Solas. Know also that if you were to leave you’d be sorely missed. No one else has wisdom like yours. The amount of knowledge you’ve gathered in your travels through both the Fade and the waking world is extraordinary.”

Solas felt his cheeks grow hot at her easy praise. He was grateful for the dark.

“You’re too kind, lethallin.”

She grinned. 

“Come on, there’s a bottle of wine in my cabin with our names on it. It’s far too cold to sit out here.”

“As you say, Herald.”

* * *

“I seek your counsel, Solas,” Abelath said.

“What can I do for you?” 

“Walk with me?” She wrung her hands and shifted from foot to foot.

“Of course.”

Once they were past Solas’ chosen cabin outside the gates of Haven Abelath paced while instead he sat on a rock.

“What seems to be troubling you, da’len?” 

“Please don’t patronize me, Solas, this is serious,” Abelath said with a frown. “I’m worried that I won’t make the right decision.”

“Ir abelas, lethallin. Continue.”

“You know much more than I about humans and their ways. The council wants me to choose between aiding the mages and the templars. How do I know if they’re baiting me into making a decision they will disapprove of?”

“I don’t believe you have anything to worry about.”

“How can you know that?”

“The mark upon your hand is a boon that you can exploit to serve your own goals, even if they are only for your own survival.”

“Couldn’t they just cut off my arm and use it without me?”

Solas felt the color drain from his skin, the wind suddenly stung colder. 

“It wouldn’t work then, I’m afraid.”

“How could you possibly know that? Have you seen what they can achieve when they have no concern for ‘lesser beings’? They find me useful now, but for how long? It truly worries me, please don’t dismiss my concerns with flippant words.”

Her gentle but fiery spirit was something he’d not seen the likes of for many years, and it filled him with an unfamiliar warmth. Much as he tried to contain it, he chuckled softly. 

“Why are you laughing?” Abelath snapped angrily. 

That only seemed to make him laugh harder. Solas balanced his arms atop his knees and laughed as he hadn’t since before he’d woken from uthenera. He heard her stomping through the snow closer to him but a slight fear of retaliation did little to dampen his mirth. Not even the handfuls of snow she dumped on him helped. 

“You’re terrible, Solas,” Abelath huffed.

“Come, let us warm by the fire.” Solas held his arm out to escort her. 

They entered his cabin and before he had the chance she’d lit a fire with a gesture of her hand. She smirked at him triumphantly. 

“Been practicing without your staff, da’len?”

“Don’t call me that, it’s weird,” Abelath said, nose wrinkling. 

“What shall I call you then?” Solas asked. He shook out his tunic as best as he could without removing it, snow still slid down his spine and he shivered, swearing under his breath. 

Abelath giggled at his obvious displeasure. 

“This is your fault, you realize,” he said flatly.

“I don’t believe so.”

“How is that?”

“You laughed at my very serious attempt at gaining your counsel and wisdom. I can’t be faulted for taking insult to your laughter.”

“And they say Orlesians are best at The Game. They should fear Abelath Lavellan.”

“So you do know my name!” Abelath smirked.

“I never said that I didn’t.”

“Yes, but you’ve never used it.”

“Haven’t I?” Had he never called her that out loud? She’d long become simply Abelath in his mind.

“You most certainly have not, Solas.” Her joyful expression spread to her eyes that shone with the same shades as the Breach. 

He found her laughter contagious, just the sound from afar seemed enough to make him smile. 

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten. The Herald of Andraste meets with many people everyday. I do not take offense.” His words smacked of jealousy even to his own ears.

“Don’t be like that,” she murmured.

He pretended he hadn’t heard her.

“Perhaps I should escort you back to your cabin, Abelath?” He permitted himself to speak only her name. How could he want more than this friendly back and forth with her? His plans had already been set in motion; to upset them now for this… passing fancy was unthinkable. But still, he thought.

“You still haven’t given me your counsel, Solas,” she said quietly. 

“Let us sit then and discuss it.”

“Finally the man sees reason,” she huffed.

He smiled. “Between the mages and the templars, whom do you believe would be most instrumental to successfully closing the Breach?”

“Either of them. I’ve been thinking that the problem is more that any action will proclaim the Inquisition’s allegiance to that faction’s cause.” 

Again he was impressed by her wisdom that seemed to belong to someone beyond her years. 

“Who do you believe the Inquisition should side with?”

“The mages. They’ve suffered at the hands of many, more than I had known before all this.”

“And by allying with them, perhaps you can obtain more reasonable treatment for all mages of southern Thedas. It’s a very noble goal, Abelath.” 

“Do you disagree?” Her brow was furrowed and her gaze intense. 

“Not at all. It is the conclusion I would have come to as well.”

“Thank you, Solas.”

* * *

After Redcliffe Abelath began to change. She’d grown distant, in a way Solas hadn’t expected. The Tevinter and Abelath had seen a future in which Corypheus had won. Solas himself had difficulty believing the validity of Pavus’ claims, he did not trust the man.

She no longer sought him out and instead often left him at Haven. Her behavior stung for reasons he couldn’t fathom. The reasoning seemed to elude him. It was just as well, it left him more time to set his plans into motion. He’d not yet placed spies within the Inquisition’s ranks for he feared attracting the keen eye of its spymaster. 

Dorian approached Solas one day when he was assisting Adan with crafting potions.

“May I help you, Pavus?” Solas said, his shortness was not lost on the Tevinter.

“It’s Abbie. I’m worried about her.”

Solas nearly crushed the potion vial in his grasp. _Abbie_? 

“What makes you think I’d be able to assist in the manner?” Solas forced out.

“In Redcliffe, in that ghastly future… I saw the way you looked at her. And before we’d left it, after defeating Alexius there; you kissed her.”

Solas was still faced away from Dorian, a fact for which he was grateful for. A blush burned along his cheeks.

“I don’t see how that has anything to do with what’s going on now.” Solas kept his voice even.

“Are you mad? Any idiot can see she’s in love with you. Maker knows why. Regardless, she believes you to have some sort of charm. Go and use it. She’s been through a lot, she deserves happiness.”

“You would have me humor her whims without truly reciprocating her romantic feelings?” Solas asked. 

“You must feel something for her!” Dorian argued, intent on getting any answer but one of outright refusal.

“I respect her a great deal. Perhaps in that future I was-” he stopped himself before he could finish. Desperate was the word that’d come to mind. Desperate to reaffirm her survival, to know that she was standing alive and whole before him. He’d like to believe that is what he’d feel in that situation. Anything but the selfish feeling that sometimes twisted in his gut.

“Dorian,” Abelath had been drawn to them from the volume of Pavus’ voice, surely. “Let it go. Please.”

“As you say, Abbie,” Dorian said before he walked away.

Solas felt his face contort with disgust. _Who was that necromancer to call her ‘Abbie’?_

“So he told you then?”

Solas still faced the wall, mixing and measuring out ingredients for healing potions. He nodded without stopping, content to focus on the task before him.

“It’s why I’ve been avoiding you. I’m sorry, Solas. You deserved a proper explanation. From me.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, and no explanation is necessary,” Solas said.

“I disagree.”

“If anyone deserves an apology, it is you. I’m sorry for any discomfort brought upon you from that version of myself. Rest assured that in the here and now I will not do something so untoward, da’len.” He forced the word from his mouth. _Da’len_. As if he could ever see her as a child.

“Please don’t call me that,” Abelath murmured.

“Apologies.”

“Would you at least look at me?” Her voice cracked but still he couldn’t bring himself to look at her.

“I really must finish these soon, Abelath,” he said. Her name tasted sweet upon his tongue.

“I hope we can work past this, Solas. I miss your friendship.”

He listened to her footsteps retreating, and the door shut gently.

_Fenedhis_, he thought to himself. He was conflicted but could not let himself be swayed.

* * *

The elven ‘artifacts’ Solas had gently persuaded Abelath to pursue were only fragments of his own power he’d locked away before erecting the veil. He was amazed at how scattered some of them had become. 

With each one, more of his power was returning to him and the harder it became to restrain it. And now as he watched from the shadows as Abelath confronted Corypheus the air surrounding Solas crackled with his efforts to restrain himself. The blighted magister wielded the orb, _Solas_’ orb, with the same finesse that a child would wield a toy sword. He knew nothing of the delicate magics it could achieve. Solas shook his head and unleashed a time spell that would make even an ancient magister weep from it’s beauty and complexity.

Solas stepped out of hiding and circled the battlefield to get to Abelath. But first, the magister. Solas grinned wickedly as he called the orb to him. It flew through the air, wrenched from Corypheus’ grasp and hovered gently above Solas’ palm. It began to glow with a soft, pale green light. He called down lightning from the heavens and struck down both Corypheus and his pet archdemon. The blighted magister and dragon were reduced to piles of ash. Solas picked up Abelath from the ground by the trebuchet and carried her away.

He’d won the day; the Breach was sealed, he’d retrieved his orb, and the magister had been vanquished. All that remained were the masses of lackeys Corypheus had accumulated. Solas had decided while he carried Abelath back to the bulk of the Inquisition’s forces that he would stay. His plans could be delayed. Best to avoid suspicion by being near his enemy. 

The most desirable outcome would be that he could safely tell Abelath of his plan one day. 

* * *

Once they’d reached Skyhold everyone of importance would have their own quarters. With Solas being named Arcane advisor, he was promised a lavish room though he had little use for such things. It was enough that he had a place to secret away his orb.

Since Abelath had been named Inquisitor she’d been visiting him more and more. 

“Surely you have better things to do with your time, Inquisitor,” Solas said.

“I always have time to learn more of elven history, Solas. Though I thought we were finally getting familiar enough for you to use my name,” Abelath sighed.

“Apologies.” Solas watched her from the corner of his eye. 

“Are we never going to speak of it?” She asked quietly.

“Of what, Inquisitor?” He asked evenly. The kiss they’d shared within the Fade had been a momentary lapse in judgment. Solas could recall so sharply the taste of her tongue, the smell of her hair, and the warmth of her body as he held her close. He would allow himself nothing else, for certain this time. 

She shook her head. “I’ll have you confess, one day, Solas.”

“I look forward to it,” he murmured. The words had left his mouth before he could think better of them.

* * *

Solas found Abelath alone in the archives beneath Skyhold. She tried to rein in the sobs wracking her body. He knelt beside her and gathered her in his arms.

“I’d almost lost you,” she cried. “Why did you stay behind?”

At Adamant, they’d fallen into the Fade where they faced the nightmare demon. Solas had thrown caution to the wind and sent everyone on, facing the demon on his own. The demon hardly presented a challenge to him but he’d forgotten that Abelath hadn’t known that.

“We’re not immortal, Solas,” Abelath hissed. The words wounded him more than she could know.

“What if we were?” He found himself asking. 

She froze in his arms and shoved him away. “You would use that as a reason to sacrifice yourself?”

“No, it is but a thought that lingers on my mind. Have you never dreamt of the former glory of our people?” His words took even himself off guard. When had he begun to see Abelath as much as one of the people as he?

“Solas,” she began softly. “Why did you stay behind?”

“I was certain that I could handle it, and I did.”

“You defeated the demon on your own?” Abelath gaped.

He felt her fingers dig into his arms the fabric bunching beneath her grip. 

“No, only distracted it enough to get away.” The lie came to him easily. 

She rested her head against his chest and he willed his heart to slow. 

“You’re a very foolish man, Solas.”

“Perhaps,” he murmured.

* * *

Solas had gone to the garden to harvest herbs when he saw Abelath with the Commander. They were laughing together. He felt a weight begin to sit in his stomach that ached each time he thought of her. Solas’ few spies had contacted him several times asking for orders, any sort of plan that he wanted to go forward with but each time he left their inquiries unanswered. 

Something had shifted within him, though he could not say what. All of his grand plans seemed like they could be pushed back, delayed. They seemed unimportant when compared to- to what? To her? Solas shook himself from his thoughts and left the garden empty handed.

* * *

Solas watched Abelath from afar. She was alone on the balcony gazing at the stars. Maybe it was the abundance of wine, maybe the influence of the Game, but he wanted to sweep her off her feet and dance with her until the sun rose. She’d danced with her spymaster, ambassador as well as the commander. But she hadn’t asked him. Perhaps it was for appearance sake that she chose to dance with them instead of the elven apostate. Nevertheless he found his feet pressing him onward to her side.

“You are not what I had expected, Inquisitor,” Solas said.

“As mysterious as ever, Solas,” Abelath laughed softly. 

“You’re an extraordinary woman. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“And yet the one I want finds little interest in me,” she said sadly.

“Nothing could be further from the truth,” Solas murmured and laced their fingers together. “Instead I struggle to find reason as to why it is me you want.” 

“Must I need a reason to be attracted to you?”

Part of him worried that the magics that filled the anchor she bore were drawn to him. Inexplicably seeking the source, wanting to rejoin it, become whole.

“I’m much older than you, Abelath. Does that not bother you?”

“Should it? Do you see me as a child? Does it give you pause?”

“I have never seen you as a child,” he answered earnestly.

“Then why are you hesitating? My heart has been yours from the start, Solas.” She fit her body into his arms and wrapped her arms round his neck.

“This hardly seems an appropriate time or place,” he chuckled. Despite it all, his hands gripped her ass and pulled her closer.

“I believe there was a storage closet that way,” she grinned.

“You deserve more than a storage closet, Abelath.” Solas frowned.

“Perhaps, but how will I know you won’t change your mind between now and… whenever you deem fit?”

Solas took her face in his hands and kissed her with fervor. 

“I’m done fighting this,” he whispered as he rested their foreheads together. “I want nothing more than to stay by your side. You have changed everything, Abelath. And I do not speak lightly.”

“I’ve longed to hear those words.” Her admission was soft and bespoke a heartache he’d never intended to give her.


	2. Alternate Timeline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was something I wrote for Abelath's story but I decided to scrap it from the main story. Thought it was still interesting enough to share. Enjoy!

Solas paced in front of the sofa in Abelath’s quarters. She was seated, grinning at him. 

“Is something wrong, Solas?”

“No. Well, yes. There is much I need to tell you and I fear it will change your feelings about me.”

“What’s this about? Come and sit down.”

He sat well out of her arms reach. “How much do you know about the Evanuris?”

“My mother would tell me stories of them as a child. Does that matter?”

“And of Fen’Harel? What do you know of him?”

“Some say that he betrayed the Evanuris. My mother told me a different story though.”

“I’ve heard no other stories of Fen’Harel. What did she tell you?”

“That he cared deeply for Mythal. When the Evanuris slayed her Fen’Harel sought justice for her.”

Solas felt the air snatched from his lungs. 

“That is closer to the truth than you might believe, Abelath.”

“What do you mean?” She frowned and watched as Solas stood and began pacing again.

“Did you know that Fen’Harel was the one who created the veil? That he is the one responsible for the horrible fate that befell the elven people? He was selfish, blind in his fury. Unthinking of the consequences of his actions. He should have- he shouldn’t have been such a fool.”

“The Evanuris were not gods, nor was Fen’Harel. They were people. And people make mistakes,” Abelath replied with a frown.

“And who told you that?”

“My mother. She often said that a piece of Mythal lived on inside her, inside many of us. It’s a touching sentiment but just a story.”

“It’s not a story, Abelath.” Solas grit his teeth.

“There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there? You’ve always hidden much of yourself, but this is something important, isn’t it?” 

Solas nodded grimly.

“You’re Fen’Harel,” she murmured.

Solas’ eyes went wide. He couldn’t look at her; couldn’t bear to see disgust in her gaze. How could she know?

“My mother told me that I was fated to fall in love with Fen’Harel. That she’d drank from the vir’abelasan. I’d thought it just a story. But it’s not a story, is it?” 

“There’s a temple in the Arbor Wilds,” Solas said.

“Is that important? Solas, please, talk to me. Are you truly Fen’Harel?”

“I’d like to take you there.”

“And going there will make this all make sense again?” Her tone was of disbelief.

“Please, vhenan.”

“It will take weeks, won’t it?”

“Not if we use an eluvian.”

“Let me gather my things. I’ll meet you in the garden.” Abelath smiled weakly at him and gripped his hands.

“Thank you, vhenan,” he murmured before he kissed her hard. “I promise it will all make sense.”

* * *

Solas led her through the long-abandoned temple. His hands shook though he hid it by gripping his staff tighter. 

When they reached the altar, Solas used the orb to call echoes to the well. Mythal had heard the call, deep in his bones, he knew.

“What now, Solas?” Abelath seemed uncertain.

“You need not worry, vhenan. She will come.”

“Who? Who’s coming?”

“Mythal.”

“What? How-”

“Many things are possible, my daughter, Abelath Nehnan.” Mythal indeed stood before them, her hair fashioned into horns reminiscent of her favored form.

“Mother?”

“It has been too long, my child,” Mythal said. She and Abelath hugged in silence before Mythal turned to Solas. “Garas quenathra, ma’fen?” She asked him.

“I fear that I cannot continue on this path. I cannot destroy the world she knows.”

“And yet you haven’t thought to ask her opinion on the matter. You always were quick to decide things. Come with me, both of you.” Her tone made Solas feel like the scolded child he’d once been.

Mythal poured them tea, grinning at Solas even as he grimaced after he’d taken a sip.

“My daughter, you are destined for greatness. You will lead the people into a new age, with him at your side. He will try to break your heart, he will try to leave you.” Mythal glared at Solas. “Do not let him. Your name is your destiny. Your love for him will be sorrowful at times, but know that he loves you and will always come crawling back. He’s a sad sort but he means well.”

Solas swore under his breath to which the woman both laughed. 

“You will also bring vengeance to the ones who conspired against me. It will be you who deals them the killing blow,” Mythal said to Abelath.

“You cannot ask that of her!” Solas snapped. 

“Can’t I?” Mythal asked with a raised brow. “Sit, and let the woman speak for herself.”

“You always told me tales of the splendor of Arlathan, mother. I wish to see it made whole,” Abelath said.

“It will come at a great cost, da’len,” Mythal replied.

“What cost haven’t the people already paid? We are slaves, seen as lesser beings by all. We deserve better and I would see it done,” Abelath said fiercely.

“Foolish little wolf,” Mythal chuckled. “You see? I have not raised her to forget our legacy so easily.”

“And yet she still bears a vallaslin,” he spat. “You know what it means, she does not.”

“What does it mean?”

“They are marking placed upon slaves or servants, of which you are neither my child,” Mythal took Abelath’s hands in hers. “He can remove them. I believe he feared that doing so would make it so you could never go back.”

“Go back where?” Abelath asked.

“To the Dalish I suspect,” Mythal mused quietly. 

Abelath frowned. “I will have Solas remove them,” she said evenly.

“There is no turning back, vhenan, are you certain?” Solas asked. 

“She is certain, stop doubting her. You must continue the plan, both of you. There are spies I’ve placed within the Inquisition that will throw them off your path but you must leave soon. The veil is weakening at an alarming rate near the Evanuris’ prison. You must destroy it. That alone will not suffice. Solas, you know what you must do. I will do all I can to aid you. I’ve sealed the eluvian in Skyhold, no one but you two can ever go through it again. Pray it remains whole.” Mythal nodded at them and walked away, disappearing in a cloud of smoke.

“Tell me everything, but first get these damn markings off my face,” Abelath growled at Solas.


End file.
